


Inquiry

by The_lovely_noodles



Series: Unfortunate [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Begging, Cold blooded torture, Hurt Lance, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt Shiro (Voltron), I think it's a slow burn, Langst, M/M, Multi, Platonic shklance, Pleading, Prayer, Telepathic Bond, Telepathic Shiro, The Black Lion granted Shiro telepathic powers that are both Good and Bad, Torture, Tumblr Prompt, Whump, badthingshappenbingo, classic whump oh my god, mentions of God - Freeform, shance, shangst, shklance - Freeform, shklangst, slow burn??, they're not ready to start outright dating, writing as I go along
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 14:07:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16120061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_lovely_noodles/pseuds/The_lovely_noodles
Summary: “Why are you even asking me this?”  Lance fires back, defensive again and his eyes are wide and wild, he’s panting now sweating heavily.  Shiro places a  gentle hand on his shoulder.  The flame flickers, buzzing on the edge of Shiro’s mind again.An attempt to re-establish the Coalition after Voltron's unsavory absence goes horribly horribly wrong when the team meets the wrong people.





	Inquiry

**Author's Note:**

> THIS ONE WAS REALLY FUN! I'd like to consider myself a honed whiz at cold blooded torture and pleading and I kinda held myself back because the request was specific to internal pain and not straight out gore so it was a pretty interesting challenge. I also further challenged myself to write in Shiro's pov which was Hard but really interesting and fun bc you can only speculate on how much pain Lance is feeling.

The Black Lion is rumbling again in Shiro’s mind, a fading wind along his skin.  Shiro has asked the question over and over again, why the Black Lion’s connection didn’t sever.  It seems as if the Black Lion is still asking the same thing. The connection is raw and open, leaves Shiro sensitive to sounds and weirdly enough, the other lions.  Not only can he feel a Hurricane in his mind, sometimes he feels a snuffling flame, ice, dust and the velvety feel of life all at once. It leaves Shiro raw and gasping, trying to close his ears, curled up in the lower bowels of the Black Lion, hoping that Keith wouldn’t notice him imploding.  

 

“How long is this trip back to Earth gonna take?”  Lance’s voice pierces through the boring silence of the open comms and Keith rolls his eyes, even though Lance can’t see their faces.  

 

“One point five years.”  Pidge repeats, “But Allura has been insisting we establish Voltron to new planets in order to reinforce the coalition.”  

 

Lance groans over the communications line. 

 

“It’s going to be quick Lance you have to be patient.”  Shiro finds himself saying and the flame suddenly flickers and preens and pokes at his mind pleasantly. 

 

Lance makes a whining noise then sighs.  

 

“Fine.”  

 

“Anyways, tell us about the planet we’re landing on, Allura.”  Pidge says, matter of fact and Shiro can almost tell that Allura is smiling and Pidge is sitting back, relaxed.  At least by the push and pull of their respective elements, how the velvet ripples and the ice slides at the edge of his mind, intense but all the way pleasant.  

 

“Well it’s been ten thousand years but I’ve heard stories of the planet Baxzel where it’s people were known to be hospitable.  I am unsure, however if the Baxzeli are still on the planet or if it even was conquered by the Galra.” 

 

“Knowing Zarkon, he probably has.”  Lance says with a annoyed lilt in his voice.  The flame burns blue at the bottom for a moment, hot and piercing and Shiro purses his lips to keep from pressing his hand into his eyes, not wanting to worry Keith.  

 

“Is it close by?” Hunk asks and Shiro can hear Pidge clacking away at her dashboard in an attempt to type and there’s a beat of silence.  

 

“It’s about five vargas give or take at the pace we’re going.”  Pidge says. 

 

“I guess we’re gonna have to hold on tight guys.”  Shiro says and even though he says it, he can feel that the others are impatient as ever, their emotions squeezing the back of his mind like a vice.  

 

“Hey, Shiro are you okay?”  Keith is looking up at him, a flicker of worry across his face and at the same time he feels the Hurricane stir, “You look pale.”    

 

Shiro threads a hand through his hair, a headache building behind his eyes.  

 

“I’m… fine.”  Shiro says, his voice stilted, “Just a little overwhelmed.”  

 

“Oh.”  Keith seems to understand because Shiro can feel the Hurricane brush closer to the forefront of his consciousness, aware of him and his connection.  

 

Shiro sits back on the bench in the cockpit of the Black Lion, the sensations of the other lions and their respective paladins are mostly idle, except for one.  A scintillating flame orange, bright and burning is present in his mind, never wavering or quashed by oceans, only exacerbated by the storm and able to eat away at the forest and the earth.  

 

What could Lance be thinking to keep the flame overwhelming?  Shiro closes his eyes for a second, decides to reach out to the flame.  When he touches it there’s a vibrating shock, a ripple of electricity and he gasps, pulling away a wave of emotions rising in his chest like a tsunami, from annoyance to fear to pressing sadness, to hope.  He can hear Lance over the open comms yelp in surprise at the contact. 

 

“What happened?” Keith asks and his voice is urgent and worried.  Shiro sits back, thinks about each one, wonders if they’re Lance’s emotions or his own.  The storm stirs and the flame is quashing itself, trying to suffocate. 

 

‘“It’s uh--Nothing!” Lance says and his voice wavers, scared.  

 

Shiro winces at the sound in Lance’s voice, purses his lips when the flame becomes smaller than ever.  Did he know? Did he feel Shiro? 

 

_ I’m sorry _ , he sends to the flame and he hopes the Red Lion can take his message.  

 

Baxzel is a lush forest planet with water and green for miles and immediately Shiro feels the flame flicker excitedly, and Shiro’s heart swells at the sensation, finds that the flame isn’t burning as it stretches across the bond of the lions.  

 

“Any signs of intelligent life?” Keith asks Pidge and Pidge is quiet and concentrated, conducting a scan.  

 

“I… think so?” Pidge sounds uncertain, “The Galra were here at one point, but now they’re just… gone.”  

 

“Any cities?”  Keith follows up and Pidge is once again quiet and concentrated.  The velvety sheet that represents her is drawn tight and still and Shiro finds his chest drawing with tension along with it.  

 

“Yeah, one.”  Pidge says, “I’m not sure if there’s people though.”  

 

_ Doesn’t hurt to try-- _ the sentiment resonates over the bond, calm and subtle and they fly due north of the planet to the city.  

 

The lions fly over a city with soaring spires  and surrounding them is an endless expanse of shacks and smaller spires, branching out like trees.  

 

“I’m going to try to establish a connection.”  Pidge says and the comms crackle collectively. 

 

“We’re requesting permission to land, we are the paladins of Voltron, once again requesting permission to land.”  

 

There’s a couple of seconds of crackling silence over the comms, then a soft melodic voice chimes over the comms, 

 

“Permission granted,”  

 

The Lions land on what appears to be the square of the city, tall cat-like beings emerging from the spires, congregating around the lions.  The beings are multicolored, ranging from deep reds to bright blues and the crowd parts when a taller cat-like being emerges from the tallest spire.  

Allura is already out of her lion, Lance with her, chatting up one of the closest beings.

 

“Welcome Children.”  The voice of their leader is vaguely amused, almost genderless, their eyes wide and owlish.  Shiro and Keith exchange a look of confusion. Children? 

 

“Greetings your highness.”  Allura bows minutely, “I am the Queen of Altea and apart of the Voltron Coalition, we would like to establish an alliance with you.”  

 

The Leader,  _ queen….?  _ Seems to be even more amused at the request.  

 

“An Alliance? With impure beings as yourself?  How could there be unity if your team is so mismatched?”  

 

Shiro feels his hackles rise, voice trapped in his throat, there seems to be a blizzard raging on the edge of his mind.  Keith and Allura’s tongues are held, but their facial expressions look equally pissed. 

 

“Is there any way we can establish an alliance?”  Allura asks, a hard edge to her voice. The Leader glides closer to the paladins, their eyes surveying each one, their eyes unwavering and unblinking.  The Leader gets to him, trains on him a little longer and Shiro stares back, his stomach clenching with panic but unable to back down. 

 

“Unfortunately.”  The Leader says, pulling back, “But for our people’s troubles you will grant us a gift.”  

 

Allura looks at a loss for words, Shiro’s head is hurting again, the collective confusion  and alarm of the team are squeezing his brain again. 

 

“Oh-Okay, what gift do you desire?”  Allura asks and by the way the Leader looks almost hungrily at them, Shiro hopes that it’s a space rock of some kind.  

 

“The Blue One.”  The leader says, their delicate finger pointing to Lance and his flame turns burning in Shiro’s mind, panic cause it to flare.  The leader then trains their eyes upon him and Shiro now understands the flames of Lance’s panic because a hot slice of fear burns through his chest.

 

“And the Black One.”  

 

There’s suddenly protest, Allura stands up straight, stares into the eyes of the Leader.  

“You cannot have the Paladins!” Allura says with a hard tone to her voice, “I will not allow it.”  

 

“Child.”  The Leader says and suddenly the crowd moves, morphs and merges, each color melting into the next, “You do not have a say in the matter.”  

 

Shiro’s world suddenly turns blue, then there’s nothing.  

 

When Shiro wakes, it’s because Lance is jostling him and there’s a flare of panic.  Shiro sits up shaking his head and freezes. The familiar sensations of the other lions are gone, or muted, the only thing that remains is Lance’s flame that flickers and burns everything it touches.  

 

“Hey, hey calm down.”  Shiro ends up saying and Lance sits back on his legs, his eyes glimmering in alarm.  He looks around, finds himself in what appears to be a holding cell. He flexes his wrists.  They’re not bound. 

 

“What do you think this place is?”  There’s a distinct amount of alarm in Lance right now, unfamiliar to him based off how the flame engulfs everything in the back of his mind.  

 

“I-- I don’t know.”  Shiro says, “But, number one priority, get back to the team.”  

 

Lance nods and wall of fire wanes just a bit.  

 

The room is barren and and a light blue save for the webbing strange webbed openings in the walls.  The floor is cold and hard but the walls appear soft and fleshy and Shiro feels on edge. 

 

The wall curls and peels apart and the Leader enters with another being, shorter than the Leader and spotted with black and white.  

 

Shiro stands, already in a defensive position and Lance stands with him, hesitant but determined.  

 

“Why are you doing this?”  Shiro asks and the Leader seems amused.  

 

“I would like to inquire you, now that you’re mine.”  The Leader says, voice melodic and Shiro would have considered the voice soothing if it weren’t for the sharp threatening undertone. 

“Inquire about what?”  Shiro asks and the leader glides around him.  Shiro turns, makes sure to face the leader and the Leader isn’t looking at him.  

 

“I would like to inquire to The Blue One.”  The Leader says and Shiro looks back at Lance, who’s in a defensive stance, but behind Shiro a considerable amount.  

 

Shiro steps aside, the flame is still burning and raging with Lance’s internal panic.  His facial expression seems set in one of ambiguity. 

 

The speckled being morphs, their catlike eyes trained on Lance and unblinking.  

 

“Before the inquiring begins, you must wear these.”  The speckled being morphs again and produces a collar and two long arm cuffs.  

 

“There’s no way in hell I’m wearing that!”  Lance finally bursts out and the flame is growing in Shiro’s head, becoming hot and unbearable.  The being lunges and clings onto Lance anyways and Shiro tries to react, only to find that he can’t move. Lance struggles as the speckled being plunges Lance’s head into their body and another second passes before there’s two dark red arm cuffs and a collar around his neck.  The flight suit is neatly cut where the arm cuffs are, Lance’s fingers are now exposed to the elements. 

 

Shiro can move again and he’s running towards Lance, off kilter from his missing arm.  

 

“Are you okay?”  Shiro asks and Lance looks over at him and a grin graces his features.  

 

“I should be asking you that.”  He says, voice wavering just a little, “You seem a little freaked out.”  

 

Shiro makes a face, knows that Lance is lying.  There’s no time for bravado, not now. 

 

Lance then winces, grunting, eyes squeezing shut.  He bends forward, fingers clawing at the collar, gasping, his eyes snapping open.  

 

“Lance!” Shiro touches his shoulder, finds that he’s vibrating violently and Lance stills.  He sits up, eyes glassy and unfocused, a faraway expression on his face. 

 

“Lance what happened? Talk to me!”  

 

Lance looks over at him shaking his head a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.  

 

“They stabbed me!”  He says, affronted but his voice cracking with panic, “I-- the cuffs-- they stabbed me!”  

 

“That is their purpose, yes.”  The Leader says boredly, “Now the inquiring can begin.”  

 

“Child.  Now where do you come from?” 

 

Lance leans back on hands, a mischievous smile on his face.  

 

“Now that’s easy, I’m from Earth.”  

 

“Is there anyone on Earth that’s close to you?”  The Leader presses and Lance grins even wider. 

 

“My family, my brother Luis, My sister Veronica, my nephew and niece.  They mean the world to me.” His eyes narrow, “What for?” 

 

“Was there anyone on you ‘team’ that you consider close to you?”  

 

Lance glances over at Shiro, suddenly quiet and Shiro is more on edge, the flame in his mind not dying down.  

 

“Close to me, what do you mean?”  

 

“Close to you.”  The Leader repeats and Lance shifts in the spot he’s sitting in, now visibly sweating.  Shiro leans over to get a better look at his facial expression and he seems strained. 

 

“I mean, the team is great.”  Lance says, his voice is staggered, uncertain.  The flame dies down, back to a flickering candle but it’s warm with embarrassment.  Shiro’s chest squeezes with the echoes of that embarrassment. 

 

“Any particular one?”  

 

“Why are you even asking me this?”  Lance fires back, defensive again and his eyes are wide and wild, he’s panting now sweating heavily.  Shiro places a gentle hand on his shoulder. The flame flickers, buzzing on the edge of Shiro’s mind again.  

“Any particular one?”  The Leader repeats and Lance is inhaling shakily.  

 

“I can’t choose.”  Lance is breathlessly saying, “I can’t--  _ what the fuck are you doing to me--!?”  _

 

The outburst causes Shiro to jump, Lance seems to be sweating buckets now, gritting his teeth.  The flame in the back of Shiro’s mind starts to burn again. 

 

“Any particular one?”  The Leader repeats for a third time and Lance winces when he swallows, hands shaking and threading through his hair.  

 

“I--”  He looks over at Shiro, eyes wild with panic and helplessness, the flame is suddenly small and quashed and Shiro feels unusually empty. 

 

“I-- I don’t know.”  Lance says again and Shiro’s eyes widen, hit with a truck of understanding.   _ It’s Me-- it’s me--  _

 

Shiro wants to be flattered at being the answer to that question but the panicked look on Lance’s face says that he doesn’t seem ready to admit it and it raises the alarm bells in Shiro’s head anyway when his eyes become glassy again and his mouth hangs open.  

 

The Leader seems to be mildly frustrated at the answer and Lance inhales deeply again, heaving and holding his breath next to Shiro.  

 

Shiro touches the small of Lance’s back, tries to press firm enough to ground him and Lance gasps audibly, letting out a strangled whimper.  

 

“Hey hey, take a deep breath,”  Shiro keeps rubbing, trying to soothe the shaking. Lance heaves again, lets out an ugly sob, head pressed against the floor, “Lance, stay with me Lance.”  

 

Lance whines,  hiding his face with his arms, his fingers clenching his hair.  

 

_ “It hurts--”   _ Lance says in a high pitched whimper, and his fingers are further knotted, pulling hard and Shiro flinches when Lance yanks a hunk of hair out, now clenched in his fist.  

 

“Do your people have an army?”  The Leader asks and Lance looks up, eyes wide and he’s hyperventilating, fingers still in his hair.  

When Shiro opens his mouth to answer on Lance’s behalf, the Leader snaps their head to him, the look killing the voice in Shiro’s throat.  

 

Lance’s breath rattles as he hyperventilates,  Shiro shakes Lance firmly. 

 

“Breathe.”  Shiro says and Lance looks over at him again eyes swollen from crying, and tears stream down his cheeks again, “Breathe.”  Shiro says again and he tries to squash the feeling of panic in his stomach, tries to disconnect from the tears and the gasping in order to stay more focused on helping him, but his jaw tightens anyway.  

 

Lance inhales, whines, cries again and once again leans forward, vibrating and muscles tense.  

 

“Do your people have an army?”  The Leader repeats and Shiro is sure that Lance can’t physically answer, Lance lets out another ugly gasp.  Shiro runs his fingers over the back of Lance’s head, trying to soothe the pain in some way and Lance tears out another hunk of hair, a strangled groan rising from him.  

 

“He can’t answer!”  Shiro shouts and the Leader doesn’t pay him any attention, eyes only focused on Lance’s prone form. 

 

“Do your people have an army?”  The Leader repeats again and Lance then lets out a full on scream, curling in on himself and Shiro’s stomach turns with nausea, pulling away.  

 

“Do your people have on army?”   The Leader’s voice is still melodic and vaguely amused as they repeat it.  Lance curls further in on himself, his scream breaking into coughing and sobbing.  

 

_ “Fuck You!”   _ He manages to say between heaving and sobbing and Shiro feels a mix of pride and fear.  

 

The Leader is silent now, letting Lance whine and sob and stay in a curled ball before he falls limp, still sobbing softly.  The Leader now looks over at Shiro, a predatory look in their eye. 

 

“Ex’ El.”  The Leader says, voice clipped and the speckled being glides into view, “Prepare another Inquiring device, The Blue One has given us nothing.”  

 

Lance’s head snaps up, eyes wild and wide--  

 

_ “NO!”  _

  
  


Shiro jumps again at Lance’s scream, clenching his teeth when the flame at the back of his mind flares to life,  white hot, the flames going from red to blue in an instant. Lance starts to move, wobbling on his feet and trying to charge The Leader, only to fall at their perceived feet, panting hard, angry.  

 

_ “No!”  _  He says again, his fingers are struggling to reach out and grab onto the Perceived hem on the leader.  

 

The Leader looks down at Lance, curious even as Lance lets out another strangled groan, hands over his ears, curling in on himself at the Leader’s feet.  The speckled being returns with another pair of arm cuffs and a collar and Lance snaps up straight, his hair and face drenched in sweat, his eyes red and wide.  He locks eyes with Shiro, and Shiro gives him a determined expression, they  _ will  _ get out and it  _ will  _ be fine.   Lance’s eyes tear away from him, to Ex’El.  

 

“No!”  Lance cries out again,  _ “Please no! Please!”   _

 

He’s full on sobbing at the Leader’s feet, and Shiro’s eyes start to blur with tears, his hands shaking and his stomach turning over and over again.  

 

“Please!”  Lance wails, “Not him! Please! God please!”  

 

He’s chanting no at the Leader, fingers trying to pull at the Leader’s body, the white hot flame at the back of Shiro’s mind only grows, blinding.  

 

Lance’s voice lapses into something unfamiliar and it takes Shiro a few seconds to catch up-- voice raw and broken in spanish.  

 

_ “Por Favor!”   _ He screams,  _ “Ten  Piedad! TEN PIEDAD!”  _

 

His shaking fingers come together, pressed in prayer and a glacier of ice drops in his stomach.  The screams stop, the Leader and Ex’El seem curious and frozen in time, Lance is sobbing brokenly, still clawing at The Leader.  

 

_ “Dios te salve, María…”  _ He says and his voice drops to a whisper, hands still raised in prayer, his voice drops to silence and Shiro in panic, crawls over to him.  

 

Lance’s fingers interlock in on themselves, and he’s whispering in spanish, voice so low and reverent and  _ afraid  _ that Shiro holds onto the back of Lance’s armor, holding but not pulling.  The Leader still looks curiously down at them, almost unsure as to what to do and Shiro tries to tug on Lance’s armor, only to have him pray louder, his voice still tinged with desperation. 

 

_ “.....Santa María, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros, pecadores ahora y en la ahora de nuestra muerte.  Amen.”  _

 

Lance then repeats the prayer and Shiro’s blood goes cold.  

 

The ceiling rumbles and Shiro looks up in surprise and relief.   _ Finally!  _

 

Lance doesn’t seem to react, the ceiling rumbles again, and the Leader looks alarmed for the first time.  There’s a piercing roar and Shiro feels a lick of satisfaction at the look on the Leader’s face. The ceiling then caves and Shiro lunges at Lance, covering him with his body, even as he continues in reverent prayer.  

 

The Black Lion is peeking through the destroyed whole of the Holding cell and Lance looks up.  Shiro gets off of him, finds that the Leader and Ex’El have vanished and looks over at Lance, staring at the Lion as if he’s seen it for the first time.  

 

The cuffs and collar are still on him, his flight suit is ruined and his hair a mess.  Shiro holds his hand, pulls him up and Lance is now crying again, arm wrapping around Shiro’s midsection.  

 

The Lion opens and Keith steps right outside, eyes widening at the sight of Lance and Shiro.  

 

“Help me!”  Shiro calls out to Keith, and once again the Hurricane is back, mixing with the white hot flame, creating a firestorm.  

 

“W-what happened?!” He looks panicked at the sight of Lance, whose eyes are swollen with tears, his hair wild and his face pale and empty. Keith takes Lance’s arm, puts it on his shoulder and the two help Lance onto the Black Lion.  

 

Lance is sitting back on a bench, arms limp in front of him with the cuffs.  He’s quiet and dazed, breathing shallowly. 

 

Shiro sits with him, touches the collar on Lance’s neck, searching for a groove to remove it with.  Lance doesn’t react to him, only staring into space and breathing through his mouth. 

 

“Lance?”  Shiro says and Lance swivels his head towards him, “I need you to stay with me.”  

 

“God saved us.”  Lance mumbles, eyes so wide that Shiro is sure that they’ll pop out of his sockets, “God saved you.”  

 

Shiro is at a loss for words, he hears Pidge asking questions over the comms and Shiro finds a clip for the collar, uses his nail to unclip it.  

 

“You were trying to protect me.”  Shiro murmurs as he finally unclips it.  Lance closes his eyes and sits back, the collar still attached to his neck.  

 

Shiro gently pulls at the collar and Lance makes a hissing noise, his voice growing into a raw whimper.  

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”  Shiro tries to soothe as the collar pulls out a row of wide needles attached, leaving pricks of blood along Lance’s throat.  

 

“‘S not your fault.”  Lance mutters, “Couldn’t have you go through that shit you know?” 

 

Keith gets out of the chair in the cockpit, and makes a face when he sees the collar.  

 

“They injected him with something.”  Shiro says and Lance stares unseeingly at Keith, still breathing shallowly, “I’m not sure if it’s fatal.”  

 

Keith squeezes onto the bench next to Lance, opposite to Shiro.  

 

“How did the flight suit get cut like that?”  Keith asks and Shiro shrugs. 

 

“They just sort of clung onto him, like an amoeba almost.”  

 

Keith furrows his brow in disgust, starts trying to unclip the cuffs.  

“Alright Lance.”  Shiro starts, and he keeps his voice soft and steady, “I need you to breathe for me.”  Shiro inhales, encouraging Lance to do the same. Lance and Shiro breathe in tandem as Keith unclips the row along the cuffs, pulling the cuff in a curve.  Lance inhales again, flinches and whines when Keith keeps pulling the cuff revealing the short curved needles from within. 

 

Lance leans against Shiro, his head buried into his chest,  breathing fast when Keith removes the rest of the first cuff.  His arm is covered in rows of red pin pricks, they’re purpling and bruising.  Shiro holds Lance’s head against his chest, inhaling deep and hoping that Lance could hear his heartbeat, threading his hands gently through his hair.  

 

“We’re gonna do the second one.”  Shiro tells Lance, “Remember to breathe alright?”  

 

Lance nods mutely  and Shiro looks down at him to see that he’s crying again.  

 

“It’s gonna be okay.”  Shiro soothes, his fingers end up catching Lance’s tears, wiping them from Lance’s cheeks.  

 

Keith looks over at both of them, face contorted in worry as unclips the second cuff.  Lance whines and he’s sobbing again, eyes wide and staring into space. 

 

“I’m sorry.”  Shiro says again, petting Lance’s hair over again, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, I’m so sorry.”  

 

He says it again and again, buries his mouth and nose into Lance’s hair, his vision blurring with tears.  Shiro looks up at Keith and Keith is holding the second cuff in his hand, mouth open with shock and revulsion. Shiro locks eyes with Keith despite crying and Keith leans over wipes away Shiro’s tears, drops the cuff on the floor.  

 

“It isn’t your fault.” Keith says softly, “None of this is your fault.”  

 

Shiro sniffles, wiping his tears with one hand, only to feel another wave of tears.  His throat tightens with a sob, he holds Lance closer to him, clenching his teeth as more tears flow down his cheeks.  

 

“I couldn’t protect him,”  Shiro’s voice cracks as he says it, shoulders shaking and Keith stands up, pulls up a cot and scoots up in front of Shiro and Lance.  Keith glances at Lance, who fell into a fitful sleep against Shiro’s chest, runs a cursory hand over Lance’s hair. He Then looks over at Shiro, cupping his face.  

“Listen to me Shiro.  It’s not your fault.” Keith says again and he presses his forehead against Shiro’s, “I’m glad you’re both safe.”  He mumbles breathlessly. Lance stirs from sleep, eyes unfocused and bleary. He gives Keith a once over and exhales in relief, continues to bury his face into Shiro’s chest.  

 

“He’s gonna be fine, we’re gonna be fine.”  Keith says and Shiro inhales, holding it and exhaling.  

 

“We’re gonna be fine.”  Shiro reinforces and he clenches his fist, places it against his mouth.  

 

He then starts to pray.  

  
  
  
  


  
  


  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hmu @Veltron and @Lungst-N-Langst on Tumblr for more whump and langst, help me fill my bingo card on Veltron, read some of my HNK centric Langst fics on Lungs-N-Langst! Thanks for reading!


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